Fruit of Sin
by GiorgiaKerr
Summary: Apples: The fruit of sin. BB.


**Spoilers:** I'm trying to get this done, but my family is being particularly invasive today. They keep coming in and out of the room, and it's very, very distracting.

**Disclaimer:** I've drunk 1.5 litres of iced tea today. That's about half a gallon, for the imperialists among you. Hehe, and I have another 1.5 in my room. (It tastes better room temperature…) I really don't think I like the ending of this one. I like the beginning and middle much, much better. But it's more about what you think now!

**Author's Note:** Really, though, this one's been written interruptedly. Bon Jovi at top volume, my brother talking about eating sand to excrete glass beads, Dad talking about his petting-zoo pre-school… I love my family!

* * *

Brennan frowned as she bit into her apple. She hadn't expected to be this tired. She'd only come to the lab a half hour early, but she had completely forgone her usual morning ritual. Until now, she'd never really put any stock in daily rituals, putting it down to convenience and habit.

She chewed her apple thoughtfully. People would be arriving soon, and she really wanted to have some time to work while the lab was silent and hers alone. It was much easier to work that way. There were no distractions, no interruption, no outside theories.

It didn't feel nearly as invasive, either. It was easier to respect the dead - to retain what dignity she could for them - while she was alone.

Selfishly, she also knew that she just preferred the quiet. Of course, that could never be retained, no matter how many restrictions she tried to implement. People equalled noise.

As if to prove her point, Booth came all but screaming through her office door.

"Morning, Bones!" he said cheerily, waggling a white paper cup in front of her. She looked at him unbelievingly.

"What are you doing here?" she asked sternly. She wasn't used to Booth being early. Precisely on time, yes; but never early. There wasn't anyone to flirt with this early. She inwardly chided herself for the thought, knowing somewhere that she was just tired and cranky.

"Good morning, Booth," he said to himself. "How are you? I'm well, thank you, Bones. How are you? Well, I'm rather crabby, actually, sitting here with my apple."

Brennan fought the urge to throw said apple at his currently obnoxious head. Putting the coffee on the table in front of her, he sat down on the couch opposite the chair she was occupying, splaying himself across it comfortably.

"I'm not crabby," she snapped. On seeing Booth's smirk, she took a deep breath. "I just wanted some time alone… Before everyone else got here. Which is now ruined because you're here."

Booth looked appropriately offended. "Well, Bones, next time you want 'alone time', why don't you just stay at home until a reasonable hour in the morning?" he challenged. She frowned, unable to fault his logic. Booth grinned into the silence. "But I brought you coffee."

Her eyes flicked to the table. Her expression was one Booth had come to dread. It was the expression she had when he could never tell if she was being imperceptive deliberately. "You know, I read an article that said apples actually wake you up faster than coffee."

Booth stared at her. "Yeah, well…" He trailed off before leaning across the coffee table and grabbing the apple out of her hand.

"Hey!" She was getting annoyed with his habit of stealing her food. "I wasn't finished with that," she complained. Booth smirked and took a bite, nudging the coffee towards her with his shoe. She looked at him sceptically.

"Booth! Who knows where your shoe has been," she said, sounding disturbingly like his mother. '_Seeley, get your filthy shoes off my carpet_!' He smiled at the memory.

"I do," he said, giving her a Charm Smile. "My house, my car-"

"The pavement, your bathroom, crime scenes…" She gave him a pointed look that told him there was no arguing. He remained silent, but locked his eyes onto hers, challenging her. Brennan suddenly thought of a way to make him squirm.

"You know, biblically-"

Booth's stare became a warning.

"Adam and Eve are considered sinners. To punish Eve, God makes childbirth painful and forces her to abide by her husband's rule. To punish Adam, man will have to work for what he eats."

Booth's jaw tightened, waiting for whatever was coming next. Brennan, however, simply continued to stare into space, frowning. Booth sighed. "So?" he asked, a little agitated.

"Well, all God does to the serpent is make him an enemy to women. But what about the apple?" she asked honestly. Booth gawked; he couldn't believe she was serious.

"Bones, the apple couldn't have controlled what Eve did," he said slowly. She studied him, making sure he wasn't just being difficult. "Besides, I didn't think you believed in that," he added. Brennan shrugged.

"But you do, and I thought you might know the answer. That story is totally illogical," she concluded distantly. Booth wasn't sure if she was even talking to him anymore.

"So is punishing an inanimate object for the actions of sinners," he retorted, raising his eyebrows.

"Actually, it is commonly thought that it wasn't an apple at all, but a pomegranate," she continued. Booth leaned forward rather violently, his elbows on his knees.

"You do this to aggravate me, don't you?" he asked, only half joking. Brennan looked taken aback and somewhat offended. After a few seconds of silence, her expression softened and the corners of her mouth flicked up.

"Sometimes," she admitted. He took a deep breath, calming himself. "But you stole my apple," she added matter-of-factly.

"It didn't occur to you that as far as payback goes, trying to undermine my faith is a bit extreme?" He deliberately lowered his voice. It probably _hadn't_ occurred to her.

"I'm not trying to undermine your faith, Booth!" she defended. "I was simply-"

"Spouting out irrelevant information to annoy and upset me," he interrupted, making the sentence sound more like a question. Brennan rolled her eyes. Booth prepared himself for a tirade.

"'Annoy' and 'upset' are synonymous, Booth," was all she said before leaning forward and grabbing the previously abandoned cup off the coffee table. In response, Booth took a bite of the offending apple. They sat in silence for a few minutes until Brennan spoke with a small smile.

"Thanks for the coffee."

Booth grinned and rolled his eyes, hooking the apple core into the bin across the room. "Anytime, Bones. Anytime."

* * *

Angela smiled as she saw Booth and Brennan wandering down the stairs from Brennan's office. Maybe today was her lucky day. She grinned, innuendo as good as seeping out of her.

"Morning," she drawled. Booth looked worried; Angela's face spelt danger.

"Morning, Ange," Brennan replied flippantly, her eyes already on the platform. Booth could just about see her mind clicking into focus.

"Good morning, Angela," he responded in turn, his face telling her that whatever it was, he didn't want to hear it. Angela just smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"What are _you_ doing here so early?" she asked. Booth looked unamused.

"I brought Bones coffee," he replied, a little defensive.

"Oh," she said indignantly, taking her hand from his shoulder. "How boring… Anything else?" she tried. She was really in need of a pick-me-up this morning as Hodgins was away for the week. She had to be able to meddle in _some_one's coital relations.

Booth grinned, accidentally encouraging Angela. She moved to stand between Booth and Brennan, who was now face-first in a skeleton about twenty feet away.

"I stole her apple," he said finally. Angela's face was a mask of confusion, and Booth did an internal victory dance.

"That anything like popping her cherry?" Angela asked, grinning again. Booth looked at her, slightly horrified. His face became stern.

"Angela; don't," he said before bounding past her onto the platform. Angela frowned. Either Booth had a lot on his mind, or she'd really hit a nerve. Her preference as to which one was confirmed not seconds later when Booth's eyes became glued to Brennan.

Angela just chuckled and left, allowing the partners some privacy. Without Zach and Hodgins at the lab, they may as well have been alone. Angela wandered off in search of Cam. If she was lucky, she could distract her for long enough for Brennan to forget that she was, indeed, in the lab.

* * *

"What did Angela want?" Brennan asked curiously, briefly glancing up at Booth. Her body stayed angled towards the remains on the cold table. Booth pulled a face.

"You know… Angela-stuff…" he told her reluctantly, slowly. Brennan smiled a little without looking up.

"You mean she asked you about your latest sexual conquest," Brennan translated. _Or lack thereof_, Booth thought cynically.

"Could you be a little less romantic, there, Bones?" he asked instead, playing the joke-card. It seemed to work every time. Unfortunately, Brennan took that one moment to become suddenly perceptive.

"I'm sorry if I was blunt, but you've not had a girlfriend since Tessa, so I assumed…" She let the assumption tell itself.

"You know," he began indignantly, "I very well could have a girlfriend, Bones." She looked up at him again, eyebrow raised. "It's possible that I could just not have told you." Brennan straightened.

"Well, why would you not tell me?" she asked, as if the idea were totally unreasonable. Booth straightened as well, scoffing.

"Remember what happened last time?" he asked her with a cynical laugh. Brennan's hands went to her hips and she moved a little closer.

"I was _high_, Booth!" she informed him. Booth almost smiled; he briefly wondered how different his reaction would have been if he had known her as well as he did now. Then he often wondered that about everything that had happened in their past.

If, when she was dating Michael, or David, or whatever the hell else their names were, he could have told her not to. And told her why. His mind laughed at him. He wasn't brave enough to tell her _now_. It wasn't like she'd have listened anyway, but that wasn't the point.

Now, with her ice-blue eyes trained onto his, he really couldn't remember what the point _had_ been.

"Okay, fair enough. You _were_ high," he said. Brennan smiled proudly; she'd won this one. "I never told anyone this, but it was pretty funny," Booth added which a chuckle. Brennan looked at him, shocked.

"I mean, you were _high_!" he exclaimed. "_You_. Doctor Temperance Brennan; Logic Queen; Bones!"

Brennan rolled her eyes; now he was acting like Sweets. Pretty soon he'd start playing _Mortal Combat_.

"It wasn't my fault," she defended. Booth couldn't dispute that. But he was having fun.

"Still. Accidental mummy dust or not, you made Tessa think you were nuts." Booth didn't bother pointing out that she probably would have thought that anyway.

"Why does that matter? I mean, even if you had have stayed with Tessa, it wouldn't have been important for her to like me," Brennan informed him. Booth looked shocked.

"Of course it would matter," he corrected. Brennan's annoyance faltered a little.

"What? Why?" she asked, frowning. Booth sighed, as if he really didn't want to answer the question.

"Because, Bones, you're my partner. I care about how you feel, and it really wouldn't be easy to stop seeing Tessa because she didn't like you," he said automatically. His brain had barely caught up when she answered.

"You would stop seeing Tessa if she didn't like me?" Brennan asked, oblivious. Booth huffed a little, then took a few steps closer to Brennan.

"Yes," he said finally. Brennan looked up at him, less than a foot away, now.

"Why?" was all she said. Booth considered that for a while, milling over all the responses he could use. He realised suddenly that they were more excuses than they were responses. Finally, he made up his mind.

Sucking in a deep breath, he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving hers. He gave her the smile that told her he was about to say something significant. "Some things aren't worth sacrificing for a rumble in the sheets," he said quietly. Brennan wondered if they were still talking about Tessa, or if she had left the conversation before it had even started.

"Like us," Brennan affirmed. Booth's face was between torn and happy. It was an interesting combination. Finally, he smiled.

"No, not like us," he said with a shake of his head. He rested his hand on Brennan's shoulder. It was a gesture that in any other situation would be perfectly platonic, even formal. But not now.

"With us, it could never be a 'rumble in the sheets', Bones," he told her surely. Brennan frowned, past conversations invading her memory. Booth smiled at her frown and leaned down, pressing his lips to hers. The frown disappeared.

When he pulled back, her smile matched his, though there was a still confusion in her expression.

Ten minutes later, Angela wandered back into the lab, looking for Booth. She wanted to put him right in his place. Or, rather, in Brennan's. She smirked at the turn-of-phrase. Until she saw them.

Booth and Brennan were still on the platform. Only their conversation was quite obviously of a different nature. If you could have called it a conversation. Her grin widened impossibly.

"Apples," she muttered. "The fruit of sin."

* * *

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